Lament of a Lonely Man
by Ayla Curtis
Summary: It’s hard to stay angry when you’ve been alone and bored for so long…a little bit of Vorador character development. Chapter 2 finally posted.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer – I do not own Legacy of Kain.

**Lament of a Lonely Man**

**by**

**Ayla Curtis**

**For Sara(h), Liz and Eddie**

**I'm sorry it took so long and I hope you like it.**

It rained a lot in the swamp.

The rain was one of the reasons that it _was_ a swamp, meaning that it was almost constant. Even on the days when the sky was almost empty of bloated, bruised clouds, there are still seemed to be, at the very least, a few spits of water in the air or a damp mist ready to settle on any available surface.

The seemingly endless patter could be deemed relaxing by some, a steady rhythm like that of a ticking clock by which to be reminded that the world was still turning and time was marching ever onwards.

But for some it was not so comforting. Time keeping can mean little to those who know that _their _time has the possibility of being endless.

Vorador placed one careful claw of emerald hue against the cool glass of one of the many windows of his great gothic mansion deep in the swamp that lay nestled in the heart of the Termogent Forest which in turn sat enthroned in the land of Nosgoth.

The rain against the glass sent ghost like vibrations through his hand as he watched the water's incessant falling about his home, tracing rivulets around his palm and obscuring the view before his eyes. It was at times like these when he realised, if only for a fleeting moment, that eternity was a very long time indeed, especially when nature played out its time keeping symphony to ensure that he acknowledged every single second that passed.

Briefly he returned his gaze to the room in which he currently stood; the master bedroom which he called his own even though he found little use for sleep. A warm fire crackled in the hearth, creating a flickering golden glow to play over the pale skin of his newest two brides who graced his bed like the most elegant of throws. They'd kept him amused…for a while…but though they were not children in the least, nor human any longer, they were still relatively young in their years and he had easily exhausted them. They slept curled together now like sisters, dark and light hair fanned over the sheets around their heads like halos…conveying an innocence they (willingly) no longer possessed. He couldn't even recall their names. He had so many women now that came and went as he pleased without complaint that after so long he no longer cared to acknowledge them individually as they were, after all, merely a means to and end; satisfaction and a brief respite from boredom.

He turned his face from the warmth of the room back to the cold, almost monochrome, world outside. The rain had been so heavy that he had not left the safety of his home for some time now, far too long; he was beginning to feel like a prisoner, trapped in here…beginning to _stagnate_. He needed to get out soon or he was sure that he would go mad. Though there were some who might argue that he gave up his sanity to sadism along time ago, and some days he might even be inclined to agree. Sanity was a fickle and frail thing indeed.

Leaving the window he gathered his clothes, strewn about the room quite haphazardly, dressed and was gone without further thought or word, a few green sparks of light which quickly faded being all there was to prove he had departed, let alone had even been there in the first place.

-o-

The rain couldn't kill him, but that did not mean that it could not sting or irritate. He did not stay within his home because it would harm him so grievously to leave, no, it was more so that the rain drove life away from the swamp. Animals, insects and birds alike hurried away from the liquid spears falling from the sky in the same manner they would the hottest of flames. Water dampened spirits as much as it did the world…which was not what Vorador wanted at that moment. Building boredom always put him in a monumentally foul mood after a while no matter how calm he attempted to keep himself. Coming out here onto the open ground where the sky could look down on him behind its bloated dark clouds was supposed to make him feel better…less trapped. It was supposed to remind him that there was an entire world out there with a complex future waiting to play out, that there was still so much out there…that it was not all about to collapse around him…that there was still a little hope of finding something to _do_. But no…nothing like that…the rain washed all of that away.

The place was so empty…the life that the place contained hid within its depth, leaving only the empty spaces and the decay. The corpses of trees drowned by the excess of water in the already sodden ground masked other dead and dying plants and creatures.

Nothing but rot and water

So much death here…quiet, cold and miserable. Not at all what he had been looking for. If he had wanted to watch life fading from this world he need only go down to his dungeons and look in on those fools he had chained down there…unless his women had decided to have their fun and left naught but scraps in their wake.

With a soft sigh Vorador was ready to turn and leave, his walk doing nothing to alleviate his mood in the slightest. Yet while wondering whether to traipse back home on foot or use his magic to transport himself straight there a sound and a scent caught his senses and compelled him to remain outside just a little longer in order to investigate just what had called the corpses from their graves. Indeed, the stench of the living dead was as unique to them as the careless moans and shrieks they made when confronted with potential prey. Such a perfectly horrid odour they produced; the utter stink of what rotting flesh still clung to their bones heightened by the unmistakable edge of the magic that kept their form animated.

It wasn't long before he came across them…it wasn't as if they were trying to avoid him, or even aware of his presence when he arrived; they were far to occupied with their quarry.

Zombies, risen from their shallow graves deep in the sodden earth at their feet, dressed in whatever garb they had worn at the moment of death or burial, holding either the weapon they had possessed in life or whatever they had taken up from the mud…some clutched at only clumps of dripping dirt and grass that had been instrumental in their crawling from their, supposedly, final resting place.

And what was it that had riled them so, that had made these foul creatures stumble from their sleep and seek out warm flesh?

Humans…inevitably. Do they never learn? Mortal fools. There was always one whose curiosity would get the better of their common sense…or two of them, in this case. A young man and a girl.

Blood sprayed out in a fountain from a torn artery, an arc of gleaming red against the frosty grey sky.

Correction…_one_, now, in this case. The young man had fallen to their clawing fingers and snapping jaws, borne to the ground by their sheer weight they piled on top and made light work of devouring his soft form while he screamed curses to them…and warnings to the girl; yelling at her with his dying breaths to get away, to run as fast as she could back from whence they had journeyed…back home to where it was safe.

The girl, no more than seventeen years on this world, pretty pale blue dress now stained red and brown with yellow ribbons in her auburn hair turned to flee, hot tears streaming down her face and a fresh scream forming on her lips. But she took no more than three quick strides before she crashed into the solid form of the crimson clad vampire watching the awful, gruesome spectacle. The scream never fully rose from her throat and she dropped backwards to the mire with little more than a whimper.

"Why are you all the way out here…in the cold and the rain, little girl?" Vorador asked, his voice just loud enough to hear.

The girl's eyes, dark with her weeping and shot with red, suddenly turned cold, terror replaced by a rage fuelled by loss still so raw in her heart. "You stand and watch…monster…did you call these creatures! Does it please you to watch us suffer so!"

He turned his gaze to the young man whose limbs and torso were torn asunder as the zombies and skeleton soldiers fought for the meat on his bones.

"No." Vorador said simply, golden eyes flicking back to the girl at his clawed feet. "Nothing these mockeries of sentiency do bring any pleasure to me. I've no hold over them."

"But you stand there still…" her voice began to quaver and tremors of fear run through her hands and lips but her eyes showed no change, still harsh even though new tears began to fall. "Why!"

"Those…_things_…are no interest of mine, it is what they produce that can be of some fascination. There is no other time that a human is more alive than when they are faced with imminent death. Something happens inside you..."

The girl's pretty face twisted into a disgusted sneer. "So you lie; you do find amusement in other's pain. What do you plan to do now, beast? Watch me run while those things nip at my heels…wait for them to drag me down…have you no compassion?"

"Not for your kind. You mortals know nothing of what you have…and what you've thrown away. You complain about suffering when in truth it was _you_ who caused it." He said, taking steps forward.

To her credit she did not crawl back, instead she rose to her feet, trembling still. "You talk in riddles. You're a vampire are you not? Has your age addled your mind?"

"Brave words for one in your position." He commented, peering over her shoulder to where a few of the zombies had lost interest in their meal and had now focused on the victim they had, up to that point, forgotten about.

The girl didn't look back. She didn't need to; she could well enough hear their steady trudging steps as they stalked towards her. "Vampire, I know you've no love of my kind, I know our only tie to you is that you have need of us to supply you with the blood you crave but…please…don't leave me to their butchery. I do not expect you to save me…but perhaps there is enough soul left in you to grant me a quick death."

Vorador crossed his arms and slowly shook his head. "It is not my place to take any part in the affairs of mankind. If this is your fate then so be it."

A small, cruel smile crept over her dread paled lips. "But you've already interfered; you stood in my path and halted me…you are part of my fate now whether you wish it or no."

A frown settled on his face…a tridactyle hand reached forwards and clamped tight to the back of her neck, claws pressing sharply into her skin and holding pressure against the vertebrae inside. "You pray for a little peace…" he sighed.

"I pray for nothing from you. I'll thank you for easing my passing but that's all. If you could bring back my brother…" she paused to let out a trebling sob, remembering her last living image of the tattered corpse behind her. "...then I'd worship you."

"I don't ask for that." The pressure increased.

Why was it that all of the potentially interesting human beings were the ones about to die? He had not expected, from this girl with her yellow ribbons, such…bravery, for want of a better word. He was loath to apply such a description to a mortal but it was the closest fitting as she, quite literally, put her life in his hands with such conviction of belief that he would not case to her to suffer greater.

Brave…but ever so foolish. She knew nothing of the screams that so often echoed from his home, nothing of the crimson stains and corpses.

"Girl, do you expect a world after this one? Do you believe there is something waiting for you when this existence is over and done with?"

"Why do you delay?" she asked so quietly it was little more than a breath.

"Answer me, human." He told her sternly, loosening his grip rather than tightening it, given the circumstances, to emphasise that it was not something to be ignored. "Quickly now; they are almost upon you."

"I hear many different things of what lies beyond the grave, so many people with faith and vision but I share none of it. I can only hope that death is merely a sleep that can never be woken from…with no dreams or nightmares. I fear only _how _I die not when or what occurs beyond the moment."

"What of gods?"

She paused for a moment as if he had just asked something monumental, took a breath, allowed a few more tears to roll and then locked her eyes on his, still no softer. "With how this world is, with all of the suffering, if there is such an entity as a god then it isn't _worth_ believing in. Place me before him and I will gladly spit in his face."

Was it just her tears obscuring her vision or did her words bring the slightest crack of a smile to the corner of the vampire's mouth?

"You would curse god?"

"With every breath I still possess…now _please_…"

Just as hooked fingers and stained blades made to touch upon their so desired target, both girl and vampire were gone, leaving emerald sparks in their wake.

-

Take the path from the back of the mansion leading away from the unused greenhouse, down a short set of stairs and past the rather redundant well, you find yourself confronted by an awe inspiring tomb, carved with images of bats and horned demons that gaze down with baleful yet empty eyes.

The place seemed simple enough; a single room, the walls lined with niches containing long decayed corpses and the centre bearing a broken stone throne…

But perform the correct gestures over the ornately decorated wall behind the throne and a door will open to you, revealing a curled staircase leading downwards to a secret chamber beneath the main one inside which dusty cobwebs brushed over yet more coffins and bones surrounded by sandy stone walls and black marble laced with deep red veins. And at the centre of _this_ room is no throne, but a testament to veneration…laid out amidst a thousand or more brightly burning candles was what, in this dark age, might so easily be described as an angel.

It was to this sight that Vorador and the quietly terrified girl arrived from the attack near the edge of the swamp.

Gasping at the sudden and unexpected change in location the girl pushed away from Vorador and stumbled into the short few steps rising up to the central dais, her dress almost catching light as the candle flames grazed the dampened edges while she fell down in the thin clear path between them.

"Where have your brought me!" she shrieked, evidently fearful by the quaver in both her body and voice, gazing up at what she could see of the enshrined corpse before her.

"You beg me for death yet now you cower at the sight of a tomb…such fickle creatures you humans are." Vorador sniffed, unimpressed and uncaring for her confusion and plight.

"What is that?"

"Whatis _that_!" Vorador roared; outraged at how she would dare to address the deceased being she observed. He crossed to her in a flash and dragged her to her feet with a handful of her hair and ribbons, forcing her forwards so she would be face to face with the one she had insulted.

"_He_ is Janos Audron, you would do well to remember it."

"To what race does…he…belong? She stammered, carefully choosing her words and shrinking back a little once she had been released by the vampire's quick hand. However her curiosity, with some difficulty, was overcoming her abject fear and looking upon the lifeless from she had to confess to never seeing nor hearing of any such creature before, living or dead…though the name appeared a trifle familiar even if she could not recall exactly from where she knew it. Cool blue skin and wings of darkened grey with three fingered hands and two toed feet, all tipped with black claws. No…this was not a form she knew. So fascinated was she that the gaping death wound over which those powerful hands rested was not registered by her eyes for a time.

"Of what race does he appear?" the enigmatic and quick to anger being behind her queried.

"I could not even hazard a guess. Tell me…please…how did he die, and when?"

"Is it not obvious how his life was taken from him? Is the wound not clear? His cruel demise was played out near five hundred years ago now."

"So long?" she whispered, taking in the grizzly red hole, all but ringed by broken ribs reaching almost claw-like from his breast. "And yet in all this time he has not rotted?"

Vorador merely nodded and produced a shallow grunt of agreement to confirm her statement but would elaborate no further.

"Will you grant me knowledge of two things?"

"Perhaps. Ask away, though I will not guarantee an answer."

Taking another steadying breath she voiced her two questions. "Firstly, once more: please grant me the name of his kind and secondly, also once again; let me know why it is that you have brought me here."

"He is a vampire, one far more ancient than I…and as to why I brought you here into his presence…a whim? I myself am unsure. Perhaps in some small way, your disgust towards god is…comforting."

"Is there a specific pain which causes this state of mind? I suppose there must be…is it to do with…_him_."

"Yes. His blind and absolute faith in an uncaring and ignorant god as well as the stupidity of humanity was what led him to his demise. If it were not for his faith, so much tragedy might have been avoided."

"What was he to you?" for a girl who had just witnessed the brutal murder of her brother she was recovering and coping rather well. But then again, these troubled times caused even the purest and most innocent hearts to begin to harden at such an early age.

"The easiest way to describe him to you would be to call him my father."

"I'm sorry for your loss." She told him, politely but earnestly, having suffered her own loss but a few moments ago.

"I'm sure." Vorador replied with a cynical edge.

There was a silence between them which only the occasional dripping of candle wax would pierce.

What caused him to spare this girl's life? What had possessed him to bring her to this most private of places? Vorador could come up with nothing that would explain it, it was as he had told her; a whim…a fickle, stray desire most likely brought on by boredom. But what baffled him the most was the fact that although to the bottom of his cold dead heart he still despised every waste of flesh that called itself human he was discovering it to be difficult to find such total hatred for this one girl. It was so difficult to remain so angry at the only person he's had anything resembling a civilised conversation for who knows how long.

It wasn't as if he didn't have any company…but his brides had little purpose beyond keeping him occupied in a more…physical manner. They were his as he needed them and they didn't care, swanning about the mansion with their minds lost to lust both carnal and for blood. They were completely dependant on him to bring them the nourishment they required to survive and treated him as 'master' accordingly, calling him Prince and continually pestering him. Some days he could not do without them and others he shunned them because of their base and animal-like qualities. Eternity was a hard thing to live through when you had no one who could hold a decent conversation with you…no one to talk to. Oh, he'd come down to the crypt of his sire on a good few occasions and speak to him as if he were still alive, or even just prattle on to his women whether they were listening or not…but it was just not the same as having a living and understanding being who would speak their own mind in return.

His contempt for the entire human race was being overruled by something he thought he had conquered long ago; loneliness.

Was it wrong to want to just talk to her? He felt like he was betraying himself somehow by even contemplating such a thing.

And yet…

He watched silently as the girl noticed one of the candles by his sire's head had gone out and took it upon herself to take up the one beside it and ensure that it was relit.

"I know that you must be tired of hearing me say this," she began quietly, setting the candle back down into the wax surrounded circle she had pulled it from, "but might I ask one more time what plans you have for me? You say you brought me here on a whim…but now that I am here what is to happen?"

Any other time he would have not have even graced her with an answer; he would just have chewed a hole in her throat and drank his fill before tossing what was left to his brides to toy with and feed from…but with the circumstances here present, with such mental conflict and heavy weight on his soul…could it be really just too much to ask her to stay a while and talk before just sending her on her way to finish mourning her newly lost sibling?

Choosing his words carefully he approached the girl with a purposefully blank expression and an inviting open hand. "Come, your dress is ruined and you must be damp and cold. There are fires in my home by which you may warm yourself while I find you a replacement garment."

Confused, if not slightly worried, by his actions and words but seeing no other options present she took the claw offered to her and allowed herself to be led away.

_To be continued … _

_Author's Note – Well there you have it. For a long while I had no idea where this was going but hopefully it doesn't show. I'd be grateful to hear what anyone thinks of it as this is my first attempt at writing Vorador. Hope you liked reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it…even if it did take a little longer than I expected, especially since it was originally supposed to be a one-shot…and hopefully the rest of it will be done soon. Currently I'm not sure how long it will be, but probably no more than two or three chapters in total. I'm notreally happy with thetitle but have no idea for a better one...any suggestions would be very helpful..._

_But anyway, I hope I'll see you next chapter and thanks again for reading!_


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Though the girl was by no means one of the working class, she was unfamiliar with the level of decadence that Vorador lived in. As the only daughter of a wealthy merchant she had never really wanted for anything but most of the family fortune was spent on protection from monsters and the elements alike…Nosgoth being the place that it was.

But it was not the excessively expensive décor of the vampire's mansion that attracted the most of her attention…nor the somewhat egotistical theme to everything…no, it was the scantily clad ladies that appeared to drift about the place; 'drift' being the appropriate word as she swore that their feet did not touch the floor. They came uncomfortably close, watching her intently with their golden eyes as if they had plans laid out for her, passing reddened tongues over painted lips and sharp bright white teeth.

Vorador felt the girl shrink closer to him as they walked down through his home as if instinctively seeking protection.

One of his brides, practically falling out of what could loosely be called her dress came closer still and spoke in her sultry siren voice to her master. "What new game is this that you play, Prince? Might we join?"

At these words, other women joined in the calls. "Oh please say yes!"

"What fun have we tonight my lord?"

"It's been such a long time since you've brought us a pretty maiden."

Vorador's voice grew stern to his brood. "Away with you, harlots! She's no gift for you; lay a finger on her and the life that I gave you is forfeit. Be gone!"

Somehow managing to pout ungracefully around their fangs, the women retreated as they were bidden and secretly hoped that whatever leftovers they might receive were still alive so that they might have the opportunity to properly vent their frustrations upon it.

"Who are _they?_" the girl asked of her host.

Vorador's pace never slowed, not did he turn his face as he spoke. "Unless I say otherwise, they'll not harm you; that's all you need to know. Although…if I am not present they are still likely to circle you like a pack of wolves and goad you into doing something foolish that will allow them to bypass my order without breaking it. They may seem it but they are not entirely stupid…they are cunning and cruel but their attention span is somewhat lacking."

"They called you 'prince' and 'master'." she mentioned.

"I am lord of this manor and I made them." he told her simply.

"They are vampires also? But not like you?"

"If you are not strong enough to channel and guide the bloodlust properly then that is what it makes of you."

As he moved on the girl followed one step behind and to the left of him, silent as a mouse, her gaze flitting about the corridors and critically observing what she saw. It was so strange to him…she appeared so obedient but at the same time quizzical, both in fear and in awe of him and took in all that she was faced with, assimilated it the way that only human beings could. That's what made them so successful, so resilient; because of how swiftly they could adapt to change regardless of what they might think of it, leaving other races desperately clinging to the past and slowly self-destructing. He supposed that it all came from them living such short fragile lives; their strength came from their weakness for they had no choice but to quickly move with the times as their species would not survive being left behind…it was written into their blood…especially with how the world was now.

He led her to what appeared to be a dining or meeting room, the door to which was expertly painted with the image of a being much like Vorador's deceased sire. The girl took a moment to marvel at the artwork before trailing into the room to be awed all over again by its contents. She really wondered where all of his money must come from and how he could stand to rattle about inside this huge old building all by himself. Of course he had those women she had seen, but by their meeting she did not assume them to be the easiest of company…the vampire had brushed them away and thus it appeared somewhat self-evident that there was little or no care or warmth between them; just co-operation and need. And some rather base needs at that if their attire was anything to judge by. A horrifying thought came to her minds eye as she recalled this fact and she was suddenly overcome with repulsion at the idea of just what she might be offered to replace her sodden dress.

In a nervous tone she quietly approached the subject. "You…you mentioned…a change of clothes."

"I remember." He replied, glancing back at her and noticing the concerned wrinkle on her brow. Adding recent events with her query he discerned what it was that troubled her so and smirked as he answered her worry accordingly. "Believe me when I say that this home of mine hold more…shall we say 'substantial' outfits than those you have seen."

She breathed a sigh of relief, only to tense once again as one of her host's heavy hands fell upon her shoulder and she was ushered towards the crackling fireplace. Leaving her before it he turned briefly to move a chair from by the long table to her side. "Wait here and warm yourself while I locate something suitable." She was told almost kindly…and then the vampire seemed to suddenly remember himself and hurry away without another word.

Until his return she was left to her own devices, perched on a chair in front of the fire inside a vampire's abode. She sighed quietly and clasped her hands in her lap but chose not to take in her surroundings…she was alone now and acknowledging unfamiliar things only drove home this heartbreaking fact, that she was completely alone, her brother really had perished and would never return and that this really was happening…all of it. She shed a few more tears, dried her eyes and produced a few unfortunate and sad sounding hiccups before becoming awfully aware that she was not quiet as alone as she had been internally lamenting about.

Bright eyes and pale faces watched from the corners and the shadows, shallow breaths echoing uncomfortably against the silence. The girl remained in her seat and focused on the flames; she had been told that she would be safe unless something was instigated by her own hand which would allow a bending of the rules and so it was that she was determined not to make a move of any kind. After a few more moments the silence was pieced by whispers…the kind of lowered voices that were actually deliberately intended to be just loud enough for anyone nearby to hear.

"Why did he bring it?"

"What is he thinking?"

"He's not himself today."

"He's been strange all night…and then to bring something like that."

"What will he do? Will we have a chance?"

"So selfish today."

"We could…make it an accident…say she was spooked."

"Yes, and stepped too close to the fire."

"Dear, oh dear. And we tried so hard to help."

"But we were just too late, too late."

"We couldn't get any water…"

"A terrible, terrible tragedy indeed."

Insane giggles crept out of the darkness and were closely followed by those that had caused them, crossing the space with snake-like grace; both elegant and predatory. Their movements too swift for the human eye to easily follow, the girl found the four brides that had arrived to torment her directly beside and before her vision. Two lay languidly in the warmth of the fireplace in the same manner one could observe of cats, another knelt by her right while toying with the hem of her dress as the fourth and final one stood too her left, far too close for comfort, running her ribbons through clawed fingers.

The girl bravely attempted to hold in the shivers she could already feel rising to the surface. "You can't touch me." She said quietly, though it was open to debate as to whether she was reminding them or assuring herself.

One of the women laughed through her unpleasant smirk. "And what makes you think that he would not lie to you? You are just a bag of blood: a meal waiting to be consumed. He does love his games…and that is all you are to him, you realise."

The girl gulped down a breath. "Perhaps I might say the same of you."

All of the brides hissed at this statement.

"Is there something that you want or do you simply wish to torment me?"

One red-haired temptress upon the floor stretched and yawned. "A little of both, my dear."

"How so?"

"Tormenting you is indeed a pleasure but there is also something desirable that you possess which we would _so_ adore taking from you."

"And what might that be? I have nothing of value."

The bride laughed and rose to her feet, placing herself directly before the seated girl and leaning forwards to be face, separated only by a thin veil of air and trailed one claw like nail down her neck to settle in the small hollow under her throat. "Why…your life, dearest; your blood."

All but squealing the girl slapped the finger away and clamped her hands protectively about her own neck. "Well you cannot have it! Not a drop! Do you hear?"

"We're not asking you to _give_ it to us. We would be more than happy to simply _take _it from you."

All of the brides climbed to their feet now and gathered as close as they dared to; pulling at the girl's dress and snapping their teeth bare millimetres from her skin, making every effort to see her panic and vault from her chair, attempting to run only to find herself penned in by the vampires' superior speed.

The brides' plans to create such a panic within her that she would lash out and thus create an opening for 'self defence' might well have succeeded if it were not for how the girl turned for the door only to slam headlong into the chest of their master for the second time that night.

Unlike the first time back outside on the swamp, however, she did not fall backwards but instead buried her face against him and fisted her small hands into the fabric of his coat while wailing almost incoherently. At first he was taken aback, only able to gawp at the human girl weeping against him, but soon had focused a stony glare across to his brides.

"What possessed you to believe that such behaviour was acceptable?

They did nothing but shuffle their feet and avert their eyes.

"Get out of my sight." He ordered them evenly and without complaint they were gone, leaving him and the sobbing girl alone again.

He sighed inwardly; after everything it was _now_ that she decided to have a breakdown…and all over _him_ no less. Perhaps he'd made a mistake…

This was such a bother…

"I'm sorry." She squeaked through new hiccups and tears.

"For what?" he asked, peering down at her as she released and leaned away from him, wiping her eyes with her palms.

"I didn't believe you. You promised that they wouldn't harm me unless I did something…but I was so frightened…"

He stumbled over a few appropriate replies in his mind and eventually settled for simply holding out the full length red and gold dress he had hooked over his right arm. "Indeed…well…here you are…it seems to be around the right size."

Even with her pretty blue eyes now dark, reddened and sore she managed a grateful smile of sorts and took the garment from him, holding it against herself to inspect just how good his guess had been at finding a match for her size. Though it was slightly disturbing to realise just how hard and long he must have been staring at her to have figures it out so accurately.

For a second the two of them merely stood and watched as if waiting for something before Vorador politely recalled his manners and turned his back so that she might be able to change clothes with her dignity still in tact.

He had judged correctly and the velvet creation was as perfect a fit as could be hoped for…if not ever so slightly too long, causing it to just touch the ground. She thanked him accordingly which served the dual purpose of also informing him that she was decent and he could turn to face her again while she herself went to lay her old and still damp dress by the fire to finish drying without her.

"You're welcome." He replied slowly, almost stumbling over the unfamiliar words as it was a rare occasion when he had been thanked for anything in such a way that it warranted a reply.

This whole situation was completely abnormal to him; here he was with a human girl and he was not killing her. And not only that but in some strange way she was happy to be in his presence and he was going out of his way to ensure her comfort, to a degree…he couldn't help but wonder when he might wake up.

He became aware of a now familiar small voice speaking to him. "Might I enquire as to whom that might be?"

Vorador blinked and followed her pointing finger to the portrait hanging high above the fireplace; the face of the tattooed lady. "Oh…no-one important" He told her.

"Then why keep her visage in such a prominent place."

Frowning, he attempted to avoid the subject. "Is it not acceptable to keep attractive things in view even if they have little value?"

"I'm sorry…I…shouldn't have asked."

He sighed and waved a hand vaguely. "I have lived for a long time and know a great many people…that is just one face in a sea of many."

"…yet…you seem alone now."

Another silence ensued, for to such a statement there is little that could be said, especially as the girl still had no idea as to why she was there to begin with and was not about to press the subject further with one such as he. Regardless of how nicely he put himself forward to her it did not erase the solid fact that he was a merciless, sadistic mass-murderer and no doubt he would have allowed her to die back there with her sorely missed sibling if something about her had not quirked his interest. She was undoubtedly thankful for all he had done for her but she was afraid nonetheless.

"Why do you _think_ I have done what I have done?" Vorador asked slowly, gazing at the fire regardless of the fact that he was talking to the girl.

"I suppose...if I had to guess...because I did or said something that interested you. I do not wish to seem rude in any way but, ultimately, being what you are makes you a predator and so, like a cat will ignore prey that does not move you would not pay any mind unless there was something of distinct interest. And as you have not killed me I can conclude that your reasoning does not involve me being a particularly attractive meal. That is all though."

"It is strange to me to acknowledge that fact there is a human whom may not be a complete fool." he told her.

In the back of her mind she wondered if he expected her to feel honoured, but she said nothing for, as he had admitted, she was no fool.

She was about to enquire whether he was now about to let her know just what was going on inside his head when he began to whisper, seemingly to himself.

"But all of you...so stupid...you couldn't even understand what was right there in front of you...and you blame us regardless when it all went wrong...when they had to..."

He was called from his reverie by the girl again. She seemed to be good at attracting his attention and interrupting his thoughts with even the quietest of sounds...let alone with the innocent question directed at him.

"What did we do?"

He stopped staring into the flames and turned to her soft eyes, filled with genuine apology for something that she herself had not done. She did not even know the crime for which she was silently apologising for...seemingly willing to be the voice for her entire species.

"You killed this world." he said simply.

"How?"

"It was a long time ago, so long your kind never even recorded it...or perhaps that was deliberate. But regardless of that, just because the memory is erased it does not remove your guilt in the matter. All we tried to do was keep the peace...preserve everything... _everything_...but you couldn't see it that way, and you fought against the people trying to save you. You're so concerned with saving yourselves that you are blind to the bigger picture. You don't have time for the bigger picture. You just see a threat; a predator, just as you said, and you don't pause to consider that we are sentient beings with reasoning behind what we do...we kill but-"

She cut him off. "I can't blame you for killing people...well...I _could_ but...it's pointless. I can't hold a grudge against you for it."

Vorador frowned. "How so? The rest of you do."

"Humans kill too, but our reasoning behind it is far more vulgar and evil than yours. You must drink blood to survive, to live. It is the only nourishment that will sustain you but we...we kill for so many other petty reasons. So, in some regards at least, we are far worse than you. You're only doing what you _must_ do while we only do as we want."

"You are probably the first human to ever say such a thing…but you are reading too far into it all, somewhat. Certainly it is an unquestionable part of our being that naught but blood can keep us living but we do not perform the act grudgingly. Long ago, maybe, such a thing was a truth but no longer and not for some time. Not for me, for certain, as I've no doubt you can tell by tales and what you have seen. I will not deny what pleases me nor what motivates me."

"I would not expect you to."

Vorador looked away and found himself drawn to gaze at the statue at the end of the room; an angelic creature, much like the enshrined corpse of his beloved sire and the painting upon the door, whose hands reached out to clutch something presently missing from the scene. Indeed it had been a long, long time since the vampire race had been known in their full, true glory and now there was not even a footnote in the oldest of dusty volumes to speak of the fact that they had even ever even existed. Look hard enough and you would find what was still left of their glorious world…something as simple and in plain sight as the nine silent sentinels guarding the path to another place…but no one remembered now. No one cared. All except he, but perhaps it was high time that the knowledge which had been solely his for so many years was passed on...now that there was someone whom might honestly listen and understand.

"I want to tell you something." He said carefully, eyes unblinking and still focused on the marble figure across the room. "Something important which has been unheard by human ears for longer than I can comfortably remember. You might not fully comprehend but if what faith I have in your…_unique_ mind is true then you'll understand why I have told you at the very least. It's something that should be known but I've always feared what humanity might do or decide which such knowledge. I detest your kind for so many reasons but you…please prove me wrong in some of them. I want you to know."

She nodded and held her hands clasped to her chest as if to prevent her pounding heart breaking through her ribcage. "Whatever it is that you wish to entrust to me I promise to keep it safe."

"It's history." He breathed.

_To be continued…_

_Author's Note – Once again I grovel for forgiveness for taking so long. I really want to be able to have this finished within the next couple of weeks because I've made you wait for too long...plus, the longer I keep it the more I'll find things wrong with it to stop me updating later. _

_Y'know…I often find it hard when writing this to get Vorador right…I hope I have but I'm not sure. I'm trying to make him seem more possessive than protective as, after all, he's only keeping that girl around because he has a use for her not because he likes her. But anyway, thank you for being patient, for reading and reviewing. The third and final part shouldn't be too long now…though it may not be as long as these two._


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